A Sherlockian Fairytale
by datawolf39
Summary: a retelling of the beauty and the beast. Will be Slash. i repeat very tame Slash ahead.
1. Prologue

Prologue

A short time ago, in a land far, far away (unless, of course you live in London then it was a land very close to you) the lived a man named Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock was a very interesting person even before he was [insert drumroll here] cursed. After he was cursed I suppose that you could say that he was doubly interesting if you wanted to.

So anyway, a very powerful witch cursed Sherlock. It's a cliché, yes, but that was what had happened. The witch's name or at least the pseudonym she gave to the consulting detective was Irene Adler.

To cut a long story short since I wanna get to the important/cliché bits about the handsome man that would save Sherlock. All I will say is that Irene took it _really_ badly when Sherlock rejected her advances. She was quite sexy of course but Sherlock wasn't interested and once he found that she wasn't as smart as she had seemed he was ready to wash his hands of her.

So she cursed Sherlock to live as a beast because if she couldn't have his beauty then no one else could either. But unbeknownst to her a wise old fairy that lived under the name of Mrs. Hudson had cast protective charms over Sherlock after he had done her the favor of ensuring her husband's death.

So instead of becoming a beast full time, which would have really sucked, the curse was weakened and instead Sherlock was cursed to become a beast only at nighttime. It was a nuisance to the consulting detective but it was better being a full time beast he supposed.

The part that annoyed him most was that he was so bored a night since his huge paws couldn't handle his delicate science equipment and Mycroft being the tyrant-um the caring older sibling that he was- made sure he stayed in his flat at night.

I'd regal you with other stuff about the annoyance that was Sherlock's transformation but that would take too long and would be boring so I'll just move into the story.

**A/N a little idea that shouldn't have to many chapters. I just wanted to take a break from my Harry Potter story. Updates will come pretty quick and chaps will have around a thousand words to them so fairly short chaps. It's kinda silly so yeah.**


	2. They Meet

Chapter 1- They Meet

John had been chucked out of the army due to a stray bullet that had found its way into his shoulder. Now all he had to show for his days in the hot desert was a medal or two, an achy wound, a limp, some horrible memories that translated into even worse nightmares, PTSD, a therapist, and a loss of his sense of purpose. oh yeah and a tremor, he couldn't forget about that.

All and all John was seriously contemplating eating a bullet from his gun. The only thing stopping him was the fact that his sister would be all alone and he cursed himself for having a conscious.

So invalidated army doctor John Hamish Watson wasted away in a tiny little place that had barely enough space for the bed that he was laying on, going outside only for his sessions with his therapist not that they helped but he was already so isolated and that was pretty much his only contact here since he didn't want to see his sister.

On the walk back from the therapist he stopped by a supermarket to buy something to eat. He wasn't hungry but he then again he never was not since he had come back to London to this dreary existence.

On the way back to his tiny flat he happened to walk past a crime scene that was tapped off. He was going to keep moving but then his attention was caught by a rather stunning individual coming out of the building.

"Lestrade next time keep him away from me!" The dark-haired man growled at a gray-haired man that looked to be quite a few years his senior. "A random person from the street could do better."

Suddenly the man began looking around and his eyes alighted upon John. As the man moved closer John could make out all the detail that he wasn't able from as far away as he was. The man was very tall and had on a suit. But he wore it like it was casual clothing. Over that he had a huge black coat. On his neck was a blue scarf.

John could help the comparison that his mind instantly made to Doctor Who at seeing someone wears a suit casually. All that was missing was a pair of ragged trainers.

"I'm Sherlock Holmes," the man said gazing at John intently with eyes that seemed to encompass far too many colors at once.

"I'm John Watson," John introduced himself by force of habit. He knew he should be suspicious of strangers but for some reason this guy as odd as he was appealed to him on some level. Why was hard to pinpoint but for some reason John felt as though he was meeting someone that he was destined to know and that feeling was merely solidified when he saw a mischievous glint in Sherlock's eyes.

"The Yarders are idiots. I want to prove that any average Joe- or John as it were- can do their job better. Of course I can tell that even though you were an army doctor your intelligence is quite high although you hide it because it singled you out for bullying as a child. So want to help me?"

John stood still for a moment processing what had just been said to him. Now either Sherlock was a stalker or the man had a gift for deduction. Now most sane people would think the former and run as fast and far as they could. But John, not that he was insane of course, quickly settled on the latter of the two options. Even if he was wrong he had nothing to lose since he was already fantasizing about suicide anyway.

John ducked under the tape and stood by a man who was a stranger only seconds ago.

"Sherlock you can't just…" Lestrade started to scold only to be surprised when Sherlock and his new acquaintance moved right past him and into the crime scene.

Inside there was a dead body. Obviously she was the victim of a murder. Next to the body stood a young black woman that was obviously shacking up the pointy-faced, married, forensics officer next to her.

"Oh look the freak's kidnapped someone." The lady said.

"Sally if you had any intelligence whatsoever you would be able to see that he came in here willingly."

"Why _am_ I here?" John asked.

"Can you say what caused her death?" Sherlock asked nodding over at the body.

John looked around. Then he squatted next to the unfortunate lady for a moment. "She was strangled and hit on the head with a heavy object." He saw the Sally and the guy smile until he added, "But that was postmortem she was killed with poison."

"See I told you two that anyone could see what you missed," Sherlock smiled.

"How did you know?" John asked Sherlock.

"I saw the wound." Sherlock said pulling out his pocket magnifier.

"Oh I smelled it before I noticed the puncture." John said.

"Really?" Sherlock asked.

John just nodded.

"Thank you for proving that they," He pointed a finger over at the two of them, "are idiots."

Once outside the two men said goodbye and John went back to his tiny flat hoping that he would meet that guy again. It may sound bad but that was the most fun that he had had in a very long time.


	3. The start of a fated friendship John

The start of a fated friendship (John)

**A/N John's POV next chap will be this from Sherlock's POV and there will be about two or three chapters after that.**

It was a few days after the crime scene and John had looked up this Sherlock Holmes on the internet. The man had a very unique name and he instantly found him. His website had been quite fascinating and there had been a number there which he had saved into his phone before he could think about what he was doing.

John hadn't called it of course but he had kind of a giddy feeling every time that he looked and saw the number saved in his cell phone.

After on particularly irritating session with his therapist he lay on his bed with his gun once more and decided to leave his life to chance. He would call this Sherlock Holmes and if the man picked up he wouldn't off himself.

The phone rang once and then twice before it was picked up. The person on the other end didn't say anything so John tentatively spoke. "Is anyone there?" he asked.

"Ah it's you I was expecting your call."

John flushed. He had met the man once days ago and he still remembered his voice. He cleared his throat. "How did you know that I was even going to find your number on the website?"

"I admit it was a gamble but I knew you would be curious. I also know that you're an army doctor that served in Afghanistan, who has been sent home due to a bullet wound in the shoulder as well as a psychosomatic limp that forces you to use a cane."

"Amazing," John whispered breathlessly.

"That's not what people usually say."

"They tell you to piss off right?"

For a moment the other end was silent and then from the speaker came a laugh that made John start to giggle himself even though he didn't know why he was. But he guessed that he could take this as a yes to his question.

"I play violin at all hours of the night and sometimes I don't talk for days. Would that bother you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I believe that future flatmates should know the worst of each other,"

John pinched himself he was sure that he was dreaming this whole thing up. When he realized he was awake he could do know more than ask, "what?"

"Meet me in twenty minutes at the address I text you in a minute and we can discuss this in person and solve a crime that has baffled the incompetent people that call themselves police."

Sherlock hung up and moments later a text came into his inbox signed SH.

John thought for the briefest of moments comparing sitting in this room with his gun or meeting the most interesting man that he had ever had the fortune to know.

He grabbed his coat and was in a cab in three minutes flat.


	4. The start of a fated friendship Sherlock

The start of a fated friendship (Sherlock)

**A/N Sherlock's POV. **

It was a few days after the crime scene and Sherlock had gone about his life as per normal except every no and then his mind drifted back to the man that he had meet at the crime scene that day. For some reason the man that had called himself John Watson intrigued him so much so that he had looked him up and had his deductions that he had made in those short moments confirmed.

He found himself wishing that he had gotten John's contact information so that he could call him and it was getting to the point that he might even contact his brother just to tell him where John was.

There was a beep from his phone and he saw that Lestrade was once again in need of his help.

Suddenly his phone rang and for some reason that was beyond his own comprehension he picked it up even though the number was unfamiliar. He said nothing though waiting for the caller to speak.

"Is anyone there?" a voice that was more familiar than it should have been.

"Ah it's you I was expecting your call." Was his reply as he sat on his bed quite nervous although his voice did not reflect that.

"How did you know that I was even going to find your number on the website?"

"I admit it was a gamble but I knew you would be curious. I also know that you're an army doctor that served in Afghanistan, who has been sent home due to a bullet wound in the shoulder as well as a psychosomatic limp that forces you to use a cane." Sherlock said hoping that he would empress John. He had no idea why he wished to do so but that did not stop the fact that he did want to.

"Amazing," John whispered breathlessly.

"That's not what people usually say." he replied smiling.

"They tell you to piss off right?"

For a moment Sherlock stiffened in surprise. But then he began to laugh in a way that he couldn't remember ever laughing before. Then to his surprise John started to giggle himself.

"I play violin at all hours of the night and sometimes I don't talk for days. Would that bother you?" Sherlock said suddenly.

"What are you talking about?"

"I believe that future flatmates should know the worst of each other,"

"what?"

"Meet me in twenty minutes at the address I text you in a minute and we can discuss this in person and solve a crime that has baffled the incompetent people that call themselves police."

Sherlock hung up and moments later sent a text with the information and signed SH.

Sherlock knew what he was risking by asking John to share the flat with him but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to care. Seconds later he was rushing to the crime scene himself eager for both the murder mystery and to see this John Watson again.


	5. Home

Home

It took less than ten minutes to arrive at the latest crime scene. Then just like one of those cliché romance movies John and Sherlock both locked eyes at the same moment and smiled at one another.

"Hello again fancy meeting you here," John said attempting to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

Sherlock merely nodded at him because he knew that if he said anything he would break out laughing and that would be bad.

John saw this and adopted a military stance. "Yes this is a crime scene. Grown men mustn't giggle at crime scenes."

Sherlock bit his lip to keep the laughter in check. How did this man have so much control over him when he hardly knew him? Well aside from the things that he could observe. But for the first time in his life observation wasn't telling him all he needed to know since the man continued to surprised him.

"Shall we," Sherlock said as he extended a hand out in front of him as though he was some kind of nineteenth century gentleman.

John grinned and answered in kind. "Of course my dear fellow let us proceed."

It was hard but Sherlock was able to contain the laughter as they walked to the yellow tape that separated the crime scene from the outside world.

Lestrade came over when they arrived. "Sherlock you can't just bring random people to a scene.

"Come now Lestrade surly with even your meager amount of intelligence you can see that he is not a regular person he's my... colleague and soon-to-be flatmate."

John heard the pause there and was about to ask about it when Lestrade said, "well at least the cane is gone so Anderson can't complain this time." Both detectives witnessed John's eyes widen in comic surprise _he_ hadn't noticed that he didn't have his cane before Lestrade had pointed it out.

Sherlock smile again and led John into the scene. The detective instantly deduced it was the man's best friend that did it and when he had finished deducing and insulting the police force John smiled and whispered "brilliant," and was treated to a blush from Sherlock.

"So the freak has a pet does he?" Anderson said as he walked in effectively ruining the moment.

For a second Sherlock felt the primal urge to rip the man to shreds but on shock at the bizarreness of the feeling kept him from doing it. He leveled a glare at Anderson, barely keeping himself from snarling, and said, "If you ever call him anything less than his name," he stepped closer so that only the officer would hear him, "I will make you disappear." Then he move away and checked the time. It was almost time for it to be dark he needed to get home.

"Let's go John," he said and John followed.

That day John got his first look at Baker Street and for some reason he felt that he did indeed belong here. It was a good thing he felt that was because he found himself moved in not ten minutes later. Apparently Sherlock knew people and those people had taken the liberty to move him in and though he should he found that he really didn't mind at all.


	6. The Beast

**The Beast**

**A/N it's getting to be longer than I thought oh well. this chapter gets a dedication. ** **Dark-Moon2308 reviewed my story and that made me want to update even sooner than I was going to.**

John had lived at 221B for two weeks before he found out Sherlock's secret. They had chased criminals had laughed and dined at restaurants for free but only in the day. The moment that the sun began to set Sherlock would hop up as though startled and then he would go in his room and not come out until the sun was up.

Now had it been the other way around John would have surly thought vampire but as it was he didn't know if Sherlock just had a fear of nighttime which he wanted to hide from John or it was just another of the man's idiosyncrasies.

He found out at the end of his second full week of living with the mad genius. Sherlock was ill but he had been able to hide that. What he couldn't hide was the fevered nightmares and the consequent reaction that John had. When John had heard the man shout out he had instantly rushed to him to see if there was anything that he could do.

When John walked in for a moment he was afraid of the beast that lay upon the bed. At least he was until the beast moaned and he realized that this it was Sherlock and not some monster that had devoured his flatmate.

John turned on the light and aimed the shade away to mute the glow. Now that he could see it was obvious that yes this was Sherlock. The fur was the same inky blackness as his curls and it was only a bit lighter and thinner where it framed his face. John touched his face and felt the heat on his palm. He knew that Sherlock most likely ran at a higher temperature as a beast but there was still a fever. All night and into early morning John tended to him falling asleep in the chair when he could no longer keep his eyes open and in the morning Sherlock awoke lucid enough to realize that John had seen him in his monstrous form and had not abandoned him.

"John," he whispered.

Bleary blue-brown eyes looked at him.

"So you saw."

"Yes."

"And you stayed."

"Yes. You're not that scary in that form. You don't even have claws."

"I do they are retractable though."

"Wow." John said. Stretching he asked if Sherlock wanted breakfast."

The next few days were spent in the flat to let Sherlock get over whatever bug he had caught. The best part was that now that John knew he was able to stay in the sitting room after the change happened. He never let John see him change for two reasons, one he doubted the man would like to see him naked at this juncture in their relationship and he didn't want to ruin his clothes. The other reason was that he feared it would be the straw that broke the camel's back and John would move out. It was illogical but fear often is.

When Sherlock was a beast they played and talked and once he even painted Sherlock's claws because Sherlock wanted to know how it would transfer after the change, (it looked great however they had no remover so it was quite awkward when they had to go to the crime scene and people noticed sparkly pink nail polish.)

Then there were the rumors about them dating. John didn't bother to deny them seeing as he was flattered that anyone could believe that someone as intelligent as Sherlock could hold that kind of affection for a broken man like him.

Another thing that happened was that John meet Mycroft. The man had basically said he'd take John out if it became necessary and John being the BAMF he was, rolled his eyes at the sixties style of threatening that the man had used which he laughed about when he got back to Sherlock.

All in all life was good -well apart from the body parts in the fridge but John could handle it in exchange for all the good things- for John and that was of course why he was kidnapped by a mad man who wanted to play games with his genius of a flatmate.


	7. Declaration and Decision

Declaration and Decision

When last we left our poor former army doctor he had been kidnapped. Again. By yet another genius. For a moment John wondered if he excreted some kind of hormone that attracted genius's. All John knew was that he felt like a damsel in distress and that comparison really hurt his pride. John wasn't very afraid of his kidnapper though because the man hadn't done anything to him. Well unless you counted sexual harassment.

At first John had expected to be strapped to a bomb vest or similarly threatened and/or killed. But for all of his experiences, he had been kidnapped back in his army says and that was not fun, he never suspected a declaration of love from the mad man.

"You see," Moriarty explained, "I have been watching Sherlock for a long while to see what kind of game he would like to play. But then he met you. You appear normal but he cares for you so I knew it had to be a deception. So I started watching you and much to my own surprise I started to like you just a bit. I was diagnosed as a psychopath when I was a child so imagine my surprise when I find that I am afflicted by love. I thought to strap you to a bomb to lure Sherlock to me but the more I thought about it the more I knew I would hate to have you dead. So my precious Doctor I will be keeping you and should you try to escape well I will kill everyone you care for. So what do you say?"

What could John say. Stay with this nutcase and know that the few people he cared for might be protected or run and know that if they died it was his fault. "What do you want from me?" John asked.

"Nothing much. Just you're love and your body." he grinned.

John wanted to be ill. He had never hopped the fence of sexuality, even while he had been in the army, and the closest that he ever came to doing it was in having what he had with Sherlock. His soul cried out for Sherlock to come and save him from this torture. But he had learned long ago that he was expendable so he knew that he had no choice. He took step closer to Moriarty.

**A/N This is really, really short but the next will be longer. I just thought this was a good place to end dramatically. A tad bit darker than intended for this fluffy thing that I only thought would last a few chapters at most. Will Sherlock come for John or is John doomed to be a slave to Moriarty? That is the question. **


	8. The End

The end

John took another step and suddenly the lights went out. It was disorienting for a moment because it had been so bright before with all the lights on. He had been a solider though, so he was quick to adapt to the situation which in this case meant moving away from an armed mad man(the man hadn't pulled out the gun but it was obviously there John knew the bulge of a weapon when he saw one).

The room was large, obviously the top most suite in a very expensive hotel even with the drapes pulled that much had been easy to tell.

It was lucky that he had moved so quickly because moments later the glass shattered behind him and someone came through. It was so dark but thanks to the bit of light from outside that John could make out the crouched form of Sherlock in his beast form. There was a growling that sent a shiver down his spine for he had never heard a sound like it before.

His enraged friend seemed to turn in his direction briefly crouching over him before launching himself at the only other being in the room. John remained where he was because he would be but a liability if he got involved.

"Are you in love with him Sherlock? Did you honestly think he could want you when he could have me? You saw him walking toward me. He had agreed to be mine forever." Jim taunted. He had his gun out now and Sherlock had dove away and was waiting for a chance to strike. Jim was trying to anger him he knew.

Sherlock took a breath. Jim was close to him now. He threw himself upon the man. Two gun shots went off luminous in the darkness. There was a howl and a scream and then there was nothing but labored breathing.

Moments later the lights came back up. Jim Moriarty lie dead upon the floor blood him and staining the beige carpet.

Sherlock was mere centimeters away. Bleeding from a gun shot wound. John rushed over to him. He would have use the phone but his rescue was obviously planned and he had no

doubt that help was on the way.

"John," Sherlock panted.

"Don't talk," John said. He had pulled off his shirt and pressed it to the wound to slow the flow of the blood.

"John," Sherlock said again. "Were you really going to go with him?"

John laughed. "Yeah. He said if I didn't he would kill all the people who I care about. I couldn't let that happen. If that hadn't been the case I would have never agreed because there is only room in my heart for one mad man."

"Who?" Sherlock asked weakly.

"You of course. Was there ever any doubt?

"Why me?" Sherlock asked. In a voice that was almost a whisper

"Well because the cosmos has a wicked sense of humor seeing as I have fallen in love with you and I am sure that it is unrequited."

"Idiot," Sherlock said and then his eyes closed and his breathing began to slow.

"Don't you dare die you idiot not after you just made me confess my love.

Suddenly, John felt the body under his hands shift. It was still dark though, did that mean the curse was broken? John looked back at the wound. It was healed but Sherlock had lost so much blood already.

_Three days later_

"So let me see if I understand this," John said as he looked at Sherlock who was now lying in hospital bed trying to look innocent and failing miserably. "You can still turn into a beast."

"Yes, but at will now."

"Furthermore," John continued, "I can turn into one too."

"Yes, side effect of breaking the curse I suppose."

"You are so lucky that I love you, you know that?"

Sherlock's eyes softened. "I know," he said with such happiness and vulnerability shown in his voice and expression that John couldn't find it in himself to be mad anymore. Well at least they were on a more equal footing, the blond thought to himself, while shaking his head because he realized only then that Sherlock would no doubt wish to experiment with this now that they could both do it.

**A/N this is the end of this flufftastic piece of fluff. it's a bit different from the traditional beauty and the beast ending but it's Sherlock so it is expected. I might add a clip of them running around London in beast form later but for now this is complete. Thanks for reading it.  
**


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